


Dreams that can't come true will only hurt you

by LuluTen



Series: Sympathy for the Angel [2]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Companion Piece, Dreams, I had even more Sympathy for the Angel thoughts, Introspection, M/M, Not Beta Read, minor tatsum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuluTen/pseuds/LuluTen
Summary: Tasuku and Tsumugi have always been connected.Tasuku understands Raphael more than he’d like to admit, even with his first read of the script. The idea of Raphael, a character who is unable to protect the person he loves, hits too close to home.
Relationships: Takatoo Tasuku/Tsukioka Tsumugi
Series: Sympathy for the Angel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888450
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Dreams that can't come true will only hurt you

**Author's Note:**

> “In the end, I still want to be with you for a very, very long time.”
> 
> I'll search for it again-that sight I saw with you.

_“I just have this weird feeling like I’m losing you somehow even though you’re right here, together with me. Things are changing and life is always moving forwards, but we’ve always been together and nothing could ever change that.”_

Tasuku understands Raphael more than he’d like to admit, even with his first read of the script. The idea of Raphael, a character who is unable to protect the person he loves, hits too close to home. He had always turned to acting to better interact with the world, and Tsumugi, his closest confidant, understood that well. Unlike sports, where you simply needed to be ready and active, many activities required a more delicate touch that he sometimes struggled with. For someone with a taciturn face and a blunt expression, for someone who fumbled with his vulnerability, it had been a welcome crutch. His body, while suited for action and sweeping gestures, felt entirely too clumsy for subtleties. Acting gave him an outlet to practice expressing not only himself, but the emotions and expressions of countless other people. He could become a part of a beautiful moving story, a story which was never the same twice, and share it with countless people. He loved acting more than anything, especially because he could do it with his best friend.

He was so excited when he invited Tsumugi to audition for the God troupe with him. It would be their first step into realising their dream of acting together. Ever since their first play together, Tasuku had never wanted to stop acting with Tsumugi. They were constantly improving and pushing each other to grow. He always felt a familiar warmth surround him whenever they stepped on stage together. There were definitely times when he was jealous of Tsumugi’s effortlessly subtle flair, and yet, despite that, he always felt so incredibly proud to stand beside him. He had always loved his acting and had no doubts that they had a bright future together. 

*

_“I didn’t know what to do after everything that happened. I've had so much practice with moving my body, but I couldn’t make it force my words out.”_

He had been lost after that audition. For Tsumugi to leave him, to leave their dream behind, hurt more than he could put into words. He held that dream close to his chest for all these years. It was their dream to act together, it had been for so long, and Tsumugi had irresponsibly run away and left him behind. They were supposed to be on the same team, but he left without saying a word. He didn’t know how to push past the pain and comfort him when he himself had succeeded. Would Tsumugi think he was mocking him somehow? Would he just make things worse? It was easier to be angry at him than to consider the worse possibility, the possibility that he had somehow driven away the person he loved the most. It was his fault for not speaking up, but he had no idea what he would have said in the first place. He couldn’t bridge the gap between them with acting once again, not after he completely left it behind, so he was left without any options. For the first time in his life, Tasuku had no idea how to talk to his best friend and he didn’t know what else to do. He was completely alone.

*

_“Being together, spending time on stage with people you trust, is what makes acting so fun.”_

The God troupe’s stage felt strangely empty. It was grand and commanded attention and yet, to him, its large size only made it feel emptier and emptier. He was blinded by the lights from his spot in the wings. His nervous jitters were not the pleasant thrum of anticipation that typically accompanied a performance but, instead, an eerie shuddering feeling that crept down his back like a million little ants. Tasuku felt a foreign taste lingering on his tongue as he looked out on stage for the first time without Tsumugi’s subtle presence to ground him. His sweeping motions felt entirely too harsh without Tsumugi’s mellow sweetness to balance and accentuate his performance. His voice rang entirely too sharp as it reverberated through the empty hall. Now that he was standing here, it was easy to see beyond the thin veneer of the God troupe. The true nature of the troupe was hidden behind its prestigious image. In reality, it was a crawling den of vipers where everyone fought to be on top. He could constantly feel eyes leering at him, waiting for the moment he faltered. There was no mellow camaraderie, no shared jokes, and no subtle sweetness here. Even though he had finally become a professional actor, the victory felt hollow. He was not free to express himself. Everyone wanted the rugged, princely Takato Tasuku that fearlessly played leads with perfect poise and bold grace. He was simply another pawn in the God troupe’s repertoire, used for his physical appeal to sell shows. This kind of acting, boxed in and overly competitive, was never what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t quit after working so hard to finally stand on stage.

There had only been one person who saw through the princely guise and looked at his performances holistically. After sifting through the mindless praise and unhelpful comments, he finally found a questionnaire from someone that saw through his act. Whoever wrote it saw his nervousness and gave him tips to improve each weak bit in his character portrayal and delivery. Though their points sounded harsh on paper, the advice was actually incredibly specific and helpful. Their constructive feedback was a far cry from the silent indifference and antagonism he received from the God troupe. Without fail, he could find their questionnaires, filled to the brim with new insights, after each major performance. If he could choose, Tasuku wanted to act with someone who saw his performances just like this person did, someone who could support him without holding any punches. After the performance he sat, with only the questionnaire for company, and wondered if standing on this stage was still his dream when he only felt lonelier than ever before.

*

_“I kept telling myself that I’d have to let go at some point.”_

Tasuku was not ready to see Tsumugi again. He didn’t know what to do as he was suddenly face to face with the person who haunted his dreams. It was incredibly jarring. All of a sudden, without any warning, he found Tsumugi back at Veludo Way. He found Tsumugi, who didn’t even trust him enough to tell him he was coming back. Part of Tasuku felt betrayed, betrayed that Tsumugi would silently leave him and then return once more without any warning. A larger, more vocal part of him was yearning for another chance to act with him. There was an undeniable friction between them. He knew that it would hurt, hurt more than his past wounds, to lose this miraculous chance to be together, but it was so hard to work with Tsumugi again with their lingering issues hanging between them. It was harder still to resolve things. Perhaps it was too late to repair their fractured bond.

He could not let his smothered hopes begin to bloom once more, so he tamped them down, deep into the confines of his shaking heart, when seeing him once again, now as a part of the Mankai Company. He couldn’t watch their dream slip through his fingers once again. Tasuku had never thought about what he would do if he, if they, finally had this chance to be together once more. He never expected to be reunited with him again and certainly not like this. He still hadn’t resolved his own feelings about what happened in the past. Their reunion unearthed countless buried fears. His fear of losing him again manifested as an obsessive desire for Tsumugi to be held responsible, to personally ensure he would stick to their original plan. He needed him to continue acting with him again. It was this fear speaking when he asked if he’d run away again, if he’d abandon him once more. Now that he was here, now that they were closer than ever to touching their dream, he only grew more and more afraid. Above all, the fear that clawed at him the most was the fear that he had irrevocably driven Tsumugi away all those years ago, the fear that they could never act together like they had before. To hear, at least, that he wouldn’t run away again was a small comfort. Tasuku vowed to do the same. They had both run away that time, with Tasuku mindlessly thrusting himself into acting to escape his guilt while Tsumugi avoided it altogether. He had always searched for any sign that Tsumugi would come back, that their separation was all a fluke, and only ran harder when he found no such thing. He couldn’t anticipate his sudden return, but he knew that he wouldn’t run away from Tsumugi this time. 

*

_“I’ve never wanted anything but the best for you and I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me.”_

Selfishly, some part of him only wanted the best possible performance for their first major performance together. He wanted to remind Tsumugi of the beauty in acting. He wanted to leave the cold, cruel world of the God troupe behind and grow once again, together with Tsumugi. For Tasuku, acting was never about the prestige. He decided early on that he wouldn’t be the leader this time. He wouldn’t smother Tsumugi’s gentle subtlety with his overbearing presence again. It was obvious that Kamikizaka’s criticism had sunken into him, stripping him of his confidence, and Tasuku wanted him to heal as quickly as possible. He had absorbed those falsities for far too long, brooding in them until his insecurities invaded every part of him. What better way for him to grow would there be other than leading the troupe on stage? Wouldn’t this opportunity push him to be stronger? Tasuku knew that he shouldn’t insult Tsumugi’s nervous leadership initially, but he just wanted to see him bloom as quickly as possible. He didn’t know how else to express those thoughts. He desperately wanted to see him spread his wings on stage once more in full, beautiful confidence. To see Tsumugi waver, to see him want to give it up, only reminded him of his past regrets. He hated it. He hated that he felt responsible for their first blunder. He knew, deep down, that he couldn’t afford to lose this chance now. Yet, despite this being his only chance, he still found some way to sabotage things. How could he say that he didn’t want to stand on stage with him when that is the only thing he has ever wanted? 

It is desperation that rang clearly under his tone during all of their street acts. Tasuku finally had the chance to speak. The only reliable way he could truly show Tsumugi his feelings is with acting, so all he could do is pray that he would understand him. Complimenting his acting was his subtle way of complimenting his entire being. He loves his acting just as much as he loves him, as much as he always has. Being around Tsumugi and watching him perform made him want to be the best actor he can, an actor that Tsumugi would be proud to stand with. He could never be happier than when he heard that Tsumugi really wanted to be the lead, that he still wanted to chase their shared dream just as much as he did. As soon as they got the script, he immediately wanted to run through it together. Instinctively, he wanted to work through his deliveries with him as soon as he could, trusting that he would always give him the criticism he needed to polish his role. As long as they were together, he would never feel the coldness of the God troupe again.

*

_“Let’s leave no room for regret.”_

Tasuku related to Raphael much more than he expected. The role was a welcome departure from the flashy typecasting he had experienced with the God troupe but he was wholly unprepared to relate so heavily to a character he needed to portray. He was used to feeling a distinct separation between his role and his life which allowed him to easily speculate about each character’s motivations and actions. The separation helped him transform fully into his different characters. Speculating about Raphael, in comparison, felt almost too personal for his liking. He could understand Raphael’s inability to communicate properly with Michael. He watched over Michael, afraid to lose him. He would grow angry, unable to process Michael’s resignation in any other way. He would come for Michael in the end, even if it was too late. His closest friend Michael, who expressed love with his entire body, would devote himself fully to his love, and Raphael would regret not doing the same. Then, after he’s gone, he would forgive Michael and remain alone, with only his regret for company.

Personal feelings have no bearing on acting, no matter what they are. If he were to infect his acting with his own emotions, then he would only stain the purity of his character. He repeated this mantra again and again in an attempt to prevent any unwanted emotions from leaking through his performance. He was careful to temper the overblown deliveries from the first few runthroughs, careful to avoid showing the additional ire towards Michael’s stubborn resignation that bled through his mental walls. It’s easy to feel proud of Tsumugi as he blooms brighter and brighter with each practice session. With each night, his performance only grows more and more complex. It’s hard to see him before closing night, to see him turn away from his unique charm after he had finally begun to spread his wings. Seeing him close himself off again, Tasuku was frighteningly brought back to that time, that time after his audition, where he couldn’t do anything for him. He was resolute. He would rectify his past mistakes and talk to him properly this time. He would finally utter the words that were jumbled in his throat for so long. He thought that he would simply be satisfied with this chance to act together, even if their relationship remained strained, but this play truly gave him the chance to fix everything. Sitting on the stage that brought them together again, he found the words that eluded him all those years ago and finally began to express himself clearly.

*

_“From now on, let’s keep going. We’ll do this again and again, together.”_

Tasuku was glad to finally face Tsumugi honestly. He was able to clear up his regrets and finally, finally express his true feelings. He never wanted Tsumugi to change himself. He wanted to stand on stage with the same Tsumugi who stood with him, glowing softly, for all these years. He wanted to stand with the same person who brought warmth to every performance. It was an odd experience to stand on the God troupe’s stage once again. He felt none of the coldness, none of the emptiness, from before. In its place, deep in his bones, he could feel the warmth that accompanied a performance surrounded by people he could truly trust.

If he could, Tasuku would live in that moment forever. Closing night for their first major work, Sympathy for the Angel, was a delicate and beautiful rush. If he could live in that moment, standing next to his best friend, forever then he would have no regrets. This play would be their first of many triumphs, the first of their many journeys together as they finally chase their dreams. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh and here's part 2 to the "I think too much about Sympathy for the Angel power hour." I was originally considering putting the two pieces together into one story but I felt like the two styles were a little too different. I enjoyed writing Tsumugi's as an extended metaphor about flying but I felt like Tasuku's, like his character, would be fitting if it was a little more direct/literal. I repeated some things because I felt like it fit well with the idea of regrets and how people often ruminate about them. Both focus on the play but Tsumugi's is more about being metaphorically connected to his role while Tasuku's is about being literally feeling connected to it.
> 
> Once again, I feel like I wrote with minor Tsumugi/Tasuku thoughts in the background but I think the focus on their connection is more important than any focus on romance (which, quite frankly, I feel unqualified to write) so it can still be read platonically. I feel like I understand Tsumugi more than I understand Tasuku so hopefully I did him some justice! I love both of them so much. I also haven't written any creative writing in years (rip) so I apologise for the awkward flow but inspiration kinda hit me like a truck for this one and I felt like sharing it.


End file.
